


Thunderstruck

by Sunshine_louie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace Play (Supernatural), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel Wants Dean Winchester to be Happy, Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Cries During Sex, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Denial of Feelings, Dom/sub Undertones, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Humor, The AU background is mild, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, because that's the obvious solution to prevent a broken heart, i love how that's a tag already, it's mostly focused on their attempt at using words for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine_louie/pseuds/Sunshine_louie
Summary: Dean is a brilliant vigilante unaware of his worth, Cas is a loyal angel fighting by his side, and they both keep coming up with ridiculous excuses to touch each other, conquering the hardships of verbal communication one intense state at a time.Canon-compliant levels of trauma, insecurity and longing in a mildly different setting.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	Thunderstruck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [resurrectdead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/resurrectdead/gifts).



> My brilliant girlfriend @resurrectdead and I have been talking about her upcoming superhero AU and I suggested a couple jokes that _somehow _ended up being too amusing to resist surrounding them with 10k of context. What can I say, guess it's only polite to provide your partner with ridiculous puns and canon-compliant foolery after you drag them to destihell. I briefly considered setting this in the canon universe so there's minimum criminal fighting and maximum fighting the feelings - the greatest horror in existence.__

Dean Winchester wasn't one to complain about having pizza for dinner after a crazy day, but even he had to admit that reheating the leftovers from two days ago for the third time in the last hour would be simply pathetic. But he didn't raise himself an ungrateful sinner capable of throwing out perfectly edible – though kind of stale – nutritious food so he just had stop being a dramatic fool and start chewing the cheesy cardboard cooling rapidly in his hand. 

Instead, Dean found himself staring at the depressingly unappetizing pizza slice and feeling like the slice just might be staring back. Castiel's voice was echoing in Dean’s head, politely declining the offer to share the "cholesterol-raising temptation that is greased up gluten drenched in fermented dairy" with him due to "more important affairs at hand" last time he offered. Last time being an hour ago, so yeah, his ego might've still been a little sore. Well, his heart, not ego, but whatever. And though the ache in his chest could be written off as sore muscles begging him to be more careful, Castiel's haunting voice in his head was still the reason behind this cholesterol overdose attempt failing miserably. 

At least Dean’s tired muscles had the luxury of resting on a soft double mattress while his head wasn’t lucky enough to even begin to know rest. Except the bed did feel a little too big and lonely for just Dean and the pizza plate. And the hunger Dean felt for food was overpowered by longing for just another moment of casual bickering with this overwhelming "wave of celestial intent" he's been calling Cas for the Last couple months.

Trying to move on and settle for a somewhat normal life after avenging the death of his father haven't really been working out for Dean, and he didn't exactly have the brains to pursue a fancy lawyer career like his brilliant nerd of a brother – though being immensely proud of little Sammy growing up to defend people legally. 

But Dean? Dean wasn't born to become a working-class superman, defending civil rights, he was just another wayward soldier gone overnight sensation. He was no hero. Fueled by grief and anger, empowered by pain and always making too big of a mess, making too many unforgivable mistakes and failing too many people to even deserve the vigilante title he's been crowned with. 

Dean's destiny has been determined ever since losing his mom in the fire, set by a petty lowlife criminal, when he was only four. Set in stone years later, when his dad, blinded by grief and rage, fell victim to a reckless revenge mission gone wrong. And the stone turned into an immovable mountain when Sam got up and left to start a new life in California, starting with getting a fancy degree and fancy new friends to match. 

When he decided Dean just wasn't good enough to stick around, to share time with, the deep, aching hole inside Dean's chest has started burning and slowly filling in with anger, self-hate and a desperate need to fight, as if his heart would stop beating the moment he stopped to take a breath instead of taking another punch from some rogue asshole of the day he was trying to disarm. As if fighting the evil in the night would help him defeat the demons in his head, though in reality he was simply craving the soothing ache of cuts and bruises, the painful war trophies serving as reminder that he could be good for something, as long as he kept fighting. And if he was following his father's footsteps into becoming a brutally mutilated pile of body parts in an early grave, well, it just felt like fulfilling a prophecy. Or it did, until he met Castiel.

Getting to know the otherworldly enigma he formerly knew as Thunderbird has been an emotional rollercoaster since day one, when Dean's bleeding out on a dirty, wet alley, about to be stabbed one last time, has been rudely interrupted by the lampposts suddenly bursting just to be replaced by the blinding, vaguely human-shaped light in a black trench coat putting his wannabe killer to sleep with a light forehead graze – then bringing his creepy, mask-clad face with multiple eyes painted all over it close to Dean's and saying some gibberish in a language that totally wasn't human. 

He distantly remembered being convinced he had encountered an alien, but that was simply the blood loss speaking, of course. And if the tingling heatwave of the healing energy he felt when Castiel first laid a hand on him might had made him slightly aroused as well as terrified, nobody needed to know it. At least back then, before he actually annoyed his way to Cas’ life, befriending the immortal, feathered wonder, and became a full-time fearless idiot fighting criminals alongside his protective, devastatingly handsome, admittedly smarter partner. In crime. Unfortunately. 

All things considered, Cas definitely didn’t need to know that Dean never stopped feeling very much aroused and even more so terrified by that whenever they were together, whether fighting side by side as Thunderbird and Demonblade, having amusingly stupid conversations about humanity as a simple mortal and an angel of the Lord, or sharing unbearably tender, sweet moments of genuine joy as Dean and Cas, the unlikely-to-happen-and-yet best friends. 

Dean was surprised whenever Cas actually chose to linger around, despite Dean being his usual, stupid self but in safe enough environment to not be in need of immediate help or supervision. Which, admittedly, wasn't often enough so Dean couldn't exactly blame Cas for wanting to stay away from his "stupid, vulnerable, mortal" ass, even if it did deepen the open wound in his chest to admit.

The guardian angel starring in all of Dean's pizza date daydreams may not have even fully grasped the concept of human emotions just yet, but the emotions he awoke in Dean surely surpassed the level of his own comprehension so he definitely couldn't blame Cas for not reciprocating those. He wouldn't anyway, considering that Dean was merely a pathetic excuse of a human and Cas was "an angel of Lord, you ass". 

Even though Dean knew he'd been above the level of "mortal abomination" and "pathetic, sin infested vessel" for quite some time and even took pride in being upgraded from "charmingly unaware – read dumbass – little creature" to "my righteous friend", it still wasn't quite "my beloved, sexy husband" or whatever, not like he wanted to be called something silly like "beloved" or ever dreamt about getting married, of course, he would never. 

He did, perhaps, daydream about sharing his current sad meal with the angel though. About calling _him_ something silly instead – not at all meaning the pet name, of course – and maybe offering some coffee, the one thing Cas seemed to enjoy. He would tilt his head adorably, as if confused by the offer, and say something ridiculous like "I don't see how could bean water help us find Azazel's weakness but I do enjoy the smell" before taking the cup from Dean, letting their fingers brush casually and reminding Dean of the name everyone else knew Castiel as, electricity strike piercing right through his heart like lightning, invisible sparks flying. 

Yeah, Dean's been unable to focus on anything else but craving Cas' touch ever since returning home after a night of fighting side by side with Thunderbird and washing away the traces of his warm touch, reluctantly. 

With his suit in the closet and a his less flattering sleep-appropriate attire on, Dean surely was a sight to behold, faint bruises and scratches he didn’t want to bother Cas with on display. Sordid self-awareness was ruining Dean’s appetite, ensuring his meal going cold repeatedly, as his brain kept replaying various possible scenarios where Cas would need – no, want – to touch him, like a broken record. 

That, until a sudden loud bang, followed by his apartment door flying open, made him jump and drop the pizza plate, the closest weapon to grab onto being a long, hopefully menacing metal - **lamp**? Shit.

Cas bursting in like a firework, almost setting Dean ablaze with a wild, heated stare directed at him, wasn't exactly what Dean expected to see. But then again, after getting a silent gift in the form of fluffy honeybee slippers from Cas on one insignificant Tuesday morning, no surprising turn of events have been totally off limits. Except, of course, it still did nothing to diminish Dean's shock, especially when Cas decided to interrupt the feral staring context.

"I need to get inside. _Now_." 

Dean blinked owlishly. His brain blacked out at the wording for a second, as he watched Cas enter and slam the door shut with a simple hand wave.

"Woah there, cowboy, why don't you ask me on a date first, I'm not that kind of girl." But if he was, _hypothetically_ , he'd blush, trying to contain the nervous stutter, and pretend he didn't mean the flirty remark. 

"I'm not a milk producing mammal, and neither are you, but that's irrelevant. I need to be inside you. Take your shirt off, Dean." The order rang loudly in the empty hallway, like a bolt of thunder in the quiet of the night, making Dean's blood rush away from his face and towards his traitorous dick, leaving him dizzy and brain-dead, all witty remarks forgotten.

"How?" was the only reply he managed to voice, not pausing for a second to think about how little sense it made and how hysterical he sounded. Taking deep breaths to avoid going into cardiac arrest and having the police find his corpse with a raging boner and a jaw hanging open seemed more important than thinking at the moment. Not like Dean didn't already have a selection of vivid images answering how Cas could get inside haunting his imagination on a daily basis. 

"Dean," repeated Cas, with so much intent, it would probably compel Dean to do pretty much anything he was asked of. He was no stranger to following Castiel's confusing orders and secretly enjoyed being bossed around, especially when it meant allowing himself to get distracted by Cas' stupid, chapped lips and not worry about being lethally injured – he always felt so safe with the angel around. 

And yet, despite the persistence of countless ridiculous fantasies – ranging from drinking coffee together in the morning, their thighs pressed, to Dean's chandelier bursting dramatically as they climax – Dean has never really pictured Cas being so confident and demanding in bed and nothing could have prepared his stupid, horny brain for how hot it was. The intensity of the moment made time pass slower, each move Dean made felt like trying to walk underwater, dazed.

Cas hovered above Dean who still laid uselessly in bed with his cold pizza, visibly struggling, and waved his hand, making the plate move suddenly and crash against the wall. _Oh_. Dean surged up, immediately starting to undress, not at all wondering about what else could those magic fingers do. 

Once the shirt was finally off, Cas didn't waste a second and immediately put his burning hot hand just underneath Dean's navel, right where the healing wound from their recent fight with some baby-faced psycho alchemist was. The wound hasn't been bothering Dean much, unlike the heat of Castiel's soft fucking hand spreading all over his shivering skin like a divine brand, burning right into his sinful soul. _It was getting progressively harder_ to stay calm and not spontaneously combust. 

Dean held his breath, afraid of interrupting this lustful fever dream by waking up.

"I have reasons to believe Belphegor has poisoned the arrow that struck you, I need to make sure your blood hasn't been altered irreversibly. Dean, I need to fix you." Castiel's explanation fell on deaf ears, momentarily leaving just _"I need you... Dean"_ piercing through Dean's consciousness, being the only thing he was willing to hear at the moment. Wait.

"You need to-" Dean blinked, a frown overtaking his puzzled face. "I'm dying? Shit! Am I becoming a mutant ninja turtle? I do look good in green, but please don't start calling me Raphael, that's a douchebag name."

Cas ignored Dean's nonsensical outburst and put a finger on Dean's lips, promptly shutting him up. The gesture succeeded at interrupting Dean's train of thought and shutting his brain down completely. The burning heat of Castiel's hand was impossibly alluring to resist. Sanity already missing from the crazy hardcore porn-like scene that was Dean's life, apparently, he parted lips just a little, subtly pressing them closer. 

Softly kissing the hand of a dude holding you down by lower abdomen _surely_ fell somewhere in the _sorta-acceptable_ grey area of _unsuspicious platonic behaviour_ , unlike doing something _ridiculously embarrassing_ like wrapping lips around that finger. Simply _wanting to_ do it definitely did not count. So what, Castiel did have really fucking nice hands, and the one away from Dean's lips was still pressed just inches above his crotch so he was allowed to have a moment of weakness.

"Let me focus, or else I'll have to restrain you," huffed Cas, visibly strained. The angel loosened up his tie before taking it off and stuffing it into the back pocket of his slacks. Okay, _fuck_ , it _probably_ shouldn't have felt so obscenely hot.

And Dean didn't really have to be told twice, but the building up nervous energy _inside_ of him was too strong to keep it from bursting out in the form of embarrassing gibberish. And thinking about this other, strong accumulation of divine, celestial energy being inside of him was also undoubtedly bringing him close to bursting with blasphemies on his lips and wet splotches all over his pizza-stained batman pajama pants. 

Dean’s brain just couldn't remember they weren't fifteen again and it wasn't his crush accidentally grazing his thigh during a tickle fight but an _incredibly powerful_ , timeless being _holding him down_ , making him hot all over, those _strong hands_ capable of... fuck, okay, maybe remembering didn’t help either. But being _restrained_ would certainly just make it all even worse.

Dean faintly registered his body trembling, legs shaking uncontrollably, and he couldn't even blame it on Cas' mojo yet, too overwhelmed by the sheer proximity of their bodies and the skin on skin contact to think about his fucking molecules being inspected. If there was some vaguely dangerous reason behind Cas manhandling him, it hardly mattered, dying at that very moment seemed like the best possible scenario anyway. 

Cas put a firm hand on Dean's thigh and pressed down, surprisingly gently. A warm, tingling sensation spread through his legs and the tension suddenly subdued, leaving just soft goosebumps and raised hairs behind. 

"Better?" asked Cas, a hint of worry in his voice. Great, now that fucking asshole wanted to be – god forbid – gentle. Jesus. No, no, absolutely fucking not, he couldn't bear it.

Dean nodded. 

Cas frowned and finally started doing something about the scrape he's been palming around for what felt like eternity. What was this about? Right. _All it took_ to get the guy of your dreams to touch you was _getting poisoned and possibly starting to turn into a shriveled green grass eater_ , just Dean's luck. Well, at least maybe then he wouldn't be sentient enough to remember the mortification of the obscene fantasy he was currently living through inside his head. 

Dean saw a familiar bright glow and felt the waves of Cas' grace slowly spread through him like liquid sunlight. He'd been healed by the angel so many times he'd lost count and often found guilt-ridden joy in knowing Cas chose to touch him when he didn't really need to. But something about the current press of his hand, the _sensations_ overtaking Dean's system, felt different. He felt like an amplifier ringing with a constantly increasing sound, like the _energy_ inside of an atomic bomb building up before _exploding_. 

He was feeling _everything_ at once, as if _every single moment between the creation and the end of times_ has been pouring inside his DNA and turning into a tsunami of heat and pleasure, so strong it's numbing. He wasn't sure he felt, or thought, he just _was_. Everywhere. Nowhere. The wave of the heat inside of him surpassed the dimensions of reality he could possibly comprehend, his body felt like he imagined _electricity_ did, spreading through wires with speed unimaginable for human senses. 

Dean couldn't possibly tell if the moment lasted a blink of an eye or the whole eternity but when he suddenly found some clarity of the mind, his back arched and he gasped with a silent moan, coming _so hard_ he convulsed even under Castiel's strong grip. 

The _feelings_ started to flood in, and he suddenly felt _love_ , reverence, happiness, passion, but couldn’t explain how or why. The emotions just kept coming from what seemed like _nowhere but everywhere_ and tears started to slide down Dean’s face uncontrollably, his body quivering, unable to take it all. 

Dean tried to move his tongue, ask what the fuck had he just experienced, but words didn't seem to come. He needed a deep breath or ten, and probably a new brain that didn't remember _coming in his fucking pants_ just moments earlier and still being held by his _very much immune to carnal pleasures_ divine friend like any of it made any fucking sense. 

Mostly, he needed to know what the fuck could that arrow have been spiked with to make Dean feel the most intense orgasm he would ever experience without even being touched intimately. 

"It's- it's fine," husked out Cas, voice breaking. It definitely _wasn't fine_ and when Dean finally found the courage to lift his eyes and look at the angel, he noticed the shaken expression and the blown up pupils, unmasked surprise clear on his face. 

Dean looked down again, closing his eyes and silently _praying_ to feel like a wave of energy again to swiftly teleport anywhere else _far, far away_. But he didn't get to finish the thought.

"Dean," rasped Cas, the name falling off his lips almost like a prayer. "It's good. You're good."

Dean didn't have an answer to that, reluctantly looking up just in time to feel Cas' warm hand leave his wound and start caressing his cheek softly instead, the angel’s face suddenly closer than before, dark blue eyes staring at him intensely.

"Okay," Dean said. And maybe it was. Maybe nothing would ever make sense again, but the impossible tenderness of Cas’ touch disarmed Dean completely so he couldn't do anything but give in and listen. "Okay," he repeated, breathily. 

"I'll take care of you," Cas said, once again finding a weak spot in the armor protecting Dean's heart and striking right there. And _what_?

"You _do_ ," answered Dean, unsure. Cas really did. _Always_. And Dean had never really felt worthy of having his wounds tended to, of Cas' undivided attention focused solely on his well-being, even when he selfishly craved just that. They just _never_ really talked about it. Never explicitly called it _"care"_ – which certainly wasn't even something Dean _allowed himself_ to want.

"No, _Dean_ , you don't understand." Cas pressed the hand closer to Dean's cheek, still staring vigorously, not blinking once, like he was trying to communicate directly with Dean's broken soul. "I _want to_. I- you _deserve good things_ , Dean. You deserve _everything_. Let me give you everything."

"I can't- I don't-" a choked up breath caught in Dean's throat, all the _implications_ of Cas' heartfelt offer suffocating him. "I'm scared, Cas."

"There's no reason to be," Cas argued, paralyzing Dean with another soft caress. "What do you want, Dean, _tell_ me."

"Too much," Dean chuckled, bitterly. The lump in his throat felt constructing and his eyes started to sting and burn. He _wasn't supposed to want_ anything for himself. He didn't _give_ enough, he didn't _deserve_ it.

Cas frowned, as if Dean's vague answer was hurting him somehow. Silence rang loud in Dean's ears, the anxious hesitation keeping them both from moving for an _agonizingly_ long moment. 

"I want to kiss you," suddenly admitted Cas, not moving closer to do it just yet but no trace of doubt or hesitation could be detected in his confident voice. 

Dean exhaled, unevenly, feeling lightheaded with the sudden _hope_ and trepidation. He felt delirious, but the familiar echo of Cas' voice brought him clarity and a sense of peace, despite the storm raging inside his head.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Cas' eyes lit up, as if he didn't truly expect Dean to say yes. "Please," Dean whispered, face cringing at how pathetic it sounded. But the longing was stronger than the potential embarrassment.

A quiet whimper fell from Dean's lips as Cas closed the distance, his chapped lips stealing what felt like the last breath Dean would ever take. The soft press of unmoving lips only lasted a second before breaking the levee, a waterfall of emotions bursting out to never be tamed again. 

Dean surged forward, grasping Cas' shoulders, hot tears spilling from his shut eyes. The angel’s hand moved behind Dean's neck, tangling in his hair, grasping, pulling. Their lips moved out of sync, _hungrily_ , trying to steal whatever contact they could like the world was about to explode and the only _salvation_ was in pulling each other closer and closer and _closer_ until they become one. 

Castiel’s lips were rough, movements abrupt and full of intent, like he was fighting a battle, the _insatiable desperation_ behind each lick and bite shooting through Dean in waves of blinding arousal. His hands slid up and down Cas' clothed torso, _grasping_ the fabric so hard his fists started to tremble, the ferocity of unyielding, raw desire so strong he barely felt _human_ anymore. 

Dean never wanted to stop, kissing Cas felt like the only thing keeping him alive, making him _divine_. For the first time, the roughness wasn't something Dean craved out of deeply buried self-hatred and fucked up comfort of familiarity. It was fueled by sheer desire, and he felt so _wanted_ and _pure_ , cleansed of all his sins by the holy flames of Castiel's burning passion.

" _I want_ to rip all your clothes off and _touch every inch of your skin_." Cas' voice almost resembled growling as the confession fell off his lips between rough kisses, abrupt and breathy. 

"You- you can. _Should_." Dean's feverish husk was barely comprehensible. Cas must've realized that Dean couldn't manage to enunciate his desires, voicing his own and asking for permission instead now. And God, Dean would let him do _anything_ at this point, as long as it meant staying _close_ and feeling the heat of the angel's skin on his own.

Cas didn't wait for Dean to start cooperating this time. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the angel’s hands moved to Dean's hips, _tearing_ the pants in two in one effortless move, the torn fabric sliding down easily, pooling at Dean's feet before he could even blink. His mouth formed an o shape, eyes bulging out. 

Dean knew how _literal_ Cas could be, at times, but actually _experiencing_ this was something not even his most _obscene_ fantasies could compete with. All he could do was silently plead for Cas to stay _braver than him_ and recognize the strong desire behind his nervous rigidness.

" _Cas_ ," was all Dean could say. He had never been one to stay timid and quiet during sex _and yet_ still found himself _hopelessly_ counting on Cas to take the lead and just _allow Dean_ to follow. 

Cas' hands were already gripping Dean's thighs as he hovered over his torso before plunging down to plant open-mouthed kisses on Dean's collarbones, inching closer to his neck. Dean shivered, a sudden moan escaping his throat in a long drawl, his cock twitching and _leaking_. He hardly had the time to realize he was achingly hard again, the heat coiling in his abdomen so _intense_ that his limbs felt like mush. 

Dean's heart raced and his cock _pulsed_ vigorously, begging for attention. Castiel’s hands were sliding up dean's thighs, fingers slipping underneath his underwear, startling more _desperate_ noises out of Dean. His mouth was busy grazing the sensitive skin of Dean's right nipple and the latter felt like he was being _slowly taken apart_ , the pendulum of rushed desperation and slowed-down intensity giving him whiplash. 

Cas was _unpredictable_ and Dean felt _addicted_ to the thrill of being _completely_ at his mercy. For once, free of all burdens and responsibilities weighting him down. For once, allowed to feel _something good_ , something _offered to him willingly_ , openly.

"Tell me," the demand was gentle, allowing Dean to take his time. Cas was willing to wait however long Dean needed to feel comfortable, however long it took to admit his deepest desires. And Dean felt ready, he _did_ , but the embarrassment still cloaked his tongue and made it hard to speak. 

Cas seized the moment to place _gentle_ kisses on Dean's shoulder and once again, the sudden _tenderness_ was _breaking_ him. It was _too much_ , he had to stop it.

"Fuck, _Cas_ ," he croaked, the vulnerable whine echoing in his head, making his face burn.  
"I want," Dean hesitated, taking a deep breath before jumping down the hole of _embarrassingly honest_ confessions. " _I want_ to feel your skin. I want- I want to feel the press of your body without all these extra layers. _Please_ , Cas-" the trenchcoat was thrown on the floor before Dean could take back his request. 

The _immediacy_ of the response made Dean's insides flutter. He watched in awe as Cas ripped his shirt open _without a moment of hesitation_. Dean couldn't believe his eyes, so used to seeing his angel all dressed-up in countless ridiculously constraining layers – even when fighting. _Always_ intimidatingly self-assured and cocky, not even blinking in the face of a new challenge, barking out instructions and orders. 

And all Dean had to do to have this intense, powerful man tend to his stupid, mortal desires was _ask_? No, that just couldn't be possible, it couldn't be that _easy_.

Except, apparently it _could_ , and Dean was watching Cas' shirt land in the messy pile of their clothes on the floor, struggling to believe his eyes. Cas' hands moved to undo the belt and Dean stopped him, timidly. 

Hands shaking, he looked up to catch Cas' eyes, biting his lip, silently asking to help. Cas nodded, subtly stroking Dean's hand as he fumbled with the zipper. When the slacks were finally off as well, Dean had to scold himself for wanting to grip Cas' hips _greedily_ , to slip hands under his boxers and feel the texture of the angels skin, to _keep touching_ it for the rest of _eternity_.

"Dean, you can _ask_." Could he? Dean frowned, struggling to swallow the lump his suddenly dry throat. "You know, _I want you_ to touch me too." And that – wow. Dean certainly _didn't know_ , and the surprise had to be written all over his face. 

Cas pressed his palm over Dean's, grounding it on his left hip, lowering his body to align with Dean's fully, their bare thighs touching. The contact felt electric, startling. And God, Dean's abandoned cock was finally, _finally_ getting some _friction_ when Cas' hips pressed down and brushed over Dean's crotch. A wave of arousal that hit him was almost blinding and he _couldn't help_ but shift just a little, to feel _more_ of it. 

"Dean," Cas' voice shook, for the first time sounding as deranged as Dean’s, like their proximity was affecting him greatly as well. 

"Closer," Dean pulled Cas in, legs shaking. Fuck, _fuck _. _Cas was hard too_ , and now that they had no space between them, Dean _could swear_ the twitch he felt wasn't coming from his own dick this time. Dear fucking _Lord_ , it really wasn't – and it meant that Cas _really_ wanted that too, it meant that Dean was _allowed_ to want it because it was _mutual_ and he could _touch_ and _ask_ for whatever he wanted. _God_.__

__Cas rolled his hips, making a hoarse sound that startled a moan out of Dean. He didn't _care_ about his disgustingly soiled underwear and his embarrassingly _whiny_ voice, he needed to get rid of the remaining layers between them. Just thinking about their achingly hard cocks sliding against each other had him _choking_ out a moan, leaking more pre-cum and undoubtedly leaving no inch of _dry_ fabric left. He needed it fucking _off_ and soon._ _

__"Cas," Dean pleaded. "Cas, I want- I want skin on skin." Dean paused, breathing heavily. He shivering as Cas let out a quiet moan. _Fuck_ , he so wasn't going to _survive_ this night. _ _

__"Can... Can you touch… Uh," well, okay, there really was no _decent_ way of asking someone to _grind their bare cock against yours_ , was there. Unable to ask properly, Dean grabbed Cas' hand and unsurely directed it inside his boxers, another hand hesitating at the hem of Cas' underwear. For a millionth time, he found himself staring in Cas' eyes and trying to make him understand all the things left _unsaid_ , chest rising up and down shakily. _ _

__"You look so _beautiful_ ," Cas admitted, suddenly, eyes glued to Dean's, as if he didn't even need to let them wonder to know it for a _fact_. Dean shuddered, not expecting the praise, and certainly not something so ridiculously _sweet_ and _romantic_. Beautiful was something to call _a pretty girl_ , not a pathetic, _blemished fool_ waiting to have his stupid _exposed_ heart stabbed some more, not _someone like Dean_. "I _always_ think so."_ _

__Dean refused to _cry_ when _his dick_ was already embarrassingly _wet_ , his humiliation limit had already been pushed. But he had to admit that Cas, too, looked beautiful. So, _so beautiful_. So handsome and _strikingly_ gorgeous with his disheveled hair and soulful eyes, darkened by lust and resembling an ocean at night. His usually pale, chapped lips were bright and glistening, still wet from _cherishing_ every inch of Dean's chest just a few minutes ago. _ _

__The fondness spreading roots in Dean's chest was suffocating him. Suddenly asking for a handjob didn't seem so overwhelming in comparison._ _

__"You know," Dean cleared his throat, lips twitching up, feigning confidence. "If you think I look beautiful now, you should probably see my face when you get your hands on my cock," he added a wink for good measure but could feel his face burn hot and knew he probably looked flustered._ _

__Cas licked his lips and suddenly started grinning, _delighted_ with Dean's flirty response, almost like it made him proud. Jesus fucking Christ, perhaps Dean would come _untouched_ – again – if Cas kept looking at him _like that_ just a little longer. Instead, he smirked and looked down, eyes slowly dragging over Dean's body. _ _

__"My hands," Cas pondered, palms sliding inside Dean's boxers from beneath, left thumb grazing against the head of his cock just for _half a second_. "That can be arranged."_ _

__The next moment Dean was arching up with a feral scream, another orgasm being _ripped_ out to him _with no build-up_ with a blinding wave of hot white pleasure overtaking his senses. His cock kept pulsing hard as he spilled in his poor, destroyed boxers once _again_. Dean felt Cas' hands find his to entangle their fingers._ _

__"What," Dean heaved. "The actual _fuck_ "._ _

__"You asked for my hands," Cas smirked, not even bothering to tame down the cockiness. Jesus, that motherfucker had no shame, did he. "You were right. I _did_ like your face."_ _

__"You can't just-" Dean couldn't finish that thought. He couldn't exactly complain but damnit, there went his hope for making this last. What the hell?!_ _

__"This was simultaneously the _hottest_ and the most _embarrassing_ sex I've _ever_ experienced," Dean admitted, too shaken to care about thinking out loud. "I- Can I even call it _sex_ when we didn't get to touch each other below the waist? I thought- I don't know." He didn’t know anything anymore._ _

__"Was?" Cas asked, genuinely surprised, tilting his head like he always did whenever Dean's words confused him. _Asshole_. Dean was trying to be _mad_ at _his dick_ for cutting short the best experience of his life, he couldn't get _distracted_ by certain pretty angels being _adorable_. "I thought we were only starting."_ _

__Dean's head lifted up so suddenly it made him dizzy. He thought _what_ now? Dean was taken aback by the sour expression on the angel's face. _ _

__"Well, _buddy_ , I'm not sure how much you know about _human_ anatomy but I'm way too old to go again, I need a break." And maybe to abandon civilization and become a monk to never, ever talk about his recently discovered tendency for _premature ejaculation_ and not being able to get it up again. Even if his spent dick still made weak attempts to _disagree_. Fucking hell, _no_. He just wasn't ready for _more_ humiliation. _ _

__"Shouldn't have used your stupid _mojo_ on me if you wanted to _continue_ , should've you." _ _

__"Oh." Cas seemed surprised by Dean's response once again. "You didn't like that? I'm _sorry_."_ _

__"Didn't _like_ that!?" God, this whole _communication_ thing was really fucking hard, Dean felt hysterical. Talking was his _least favourite thing ever_ , thank you. "Thought I made it pretty damn obvious just how much I _liked_ it." _ _

__Deep breaths did nothing to calm Dean down. He wasn't even mad _at Cas_ and _knew_ he should've probably tried harder to make that much clear. He was mad _at his pathetically weak body_ for falling apart at the slightest tender touch when there were so many _more_ things he wanted to experience. He _knew_ he wouldn't get the chance to ever again. But good things never lasted, did they. _ _

__"I'm just...just kinda mad, you know. Been hoping to at least- well, whatever." What was the point of explaining when it wouldn't turn back the time, wouldn't change a thing?_ _

__"Dean," Cas' voice sounded so soft and gentle as he shifted closer, inevitably reminding Dean that, unlike _certain fuck-ups_ , Cas was still so _obviously_ hard and probably _incredibly disappointed_ that Dean wasn't even offering to help with that, too busy drowning in bitterness. The sticky cold of his underwear making Dean burn with shame. _ _

__"I thought I could help?" The stupid softness in Cas' voice made Dean want to scream. There it was, the fucking _pity_ , the rehearsed _"it's okay"_ line that also served as _"goodbye"_. It was only okay because everyone _left_ Dean to deal with his mistakes on his own. Right. _ _

__"I know- I know that my body can handle more than that of a mortal. So I've been hoping that you'd let me... enhance your stamina, so I don't," Cas paused, choosing words carefully. "Tire you." Dean frowned, confused. Those weren't exactly the lines he's been expecting. What did it even mean? "There are many things I wish to experience with you, Dean. I hoped you would want them as well – but I was wrong. I apologize, it was never my intention to upset you."_ _

__"What the hell are you saying, Cas? I do _want _them as well," there was little he wanted _more_ than experiencing _all sorts of things_ with Cas, actually. "Did you expect to what, mojo back my boner so I can keep up?" it sounded especially ridiculous when _Dean_ said it. ___ _

____"I now realize how improper and _selfish_ it was of me to assume." Okay, alright, what? Was Dean hearing this correctly? "I didn't exactly plan to _'mojo back your boner'_ , as you put it," Cas winced, as if disturbed by the thought. "I've been hoping it would happen _naturally_ if I just…helped your body restore. I understand that my _intensity_ might be exhausting for you. I’m sorry, Dean," apologized Cas, smiling sadly and looking down in _shame_. _ _ _ _

____"Wait, so you just...didn't want _to stop_?" Dean's voice got caught in his throat at the sudden hopefulness. They couldn't possibly _both_ be stupid enough to feel sad over the shameful desire to never stop touching. Or could they? _ _ _ _

____"Why would I?" Cas questioned, affronted. Dean could name at least a hundred reasons why but kept silent. "Dean, I've been alive for a _very_ long time and got to touch a million different things most creatures can't even begin to _imagine_. But nothing could come close to how it felt to touch _you_."_ _ _ _

____To that, Dean had no answer. His throat felt dry and he surged forward to catch Cas' lips before he could ponder over the heavy weight of Castiel's confession. The angel didn't hesitate to kiss him back, embracing Dean's sweaty back in a strong hold. But before they let the passion overtake them again, Dean had to _make sure_ he understood where it was going._ _ _ _

____" _Wait_ ," he pulled away, slowly catching his breath, enthralled by the steady rise and fall of Cas' chest against his. "So, are you going to... _refresh_ me now?" _ _ _ _

____"Are you talking about your weakened state or the wet underwear rubbing against my leg? Because I can ‘refresh’ both." Cas smirked, watching Dean blush._ _ _ _

____"Shut up, it's _your_ fault anyway," Dean grumbled. Cas' amused laugh made him smile, surprisingly. "But yeah, preferably both."_ _ _ _

____"Of course," Cas said. "All you have to do is ask."_ _ _ _

____And Dean did just that. Apparently, _asking_ could give you _everything_ you've wanted _and more_. More being six orgasms in one night. Well, ten between the two of them, actually. Dean didn't know angels were even _capable_ of wanting things like that, let alone voicing their desire so _explicitly_ even Dean's kinkiest porn protagonists would blush over hearing that. _ _ _ _

____But suffering a heart attack or ten and the expense of Castiel's dirty talk was something Dean was willing to handle. And having his favourite lamp burst dramatically when Cas came the first time was certainly Dean's _ultimate_ fantasy come true, the moment destined to be archived in the mental folder of _wank bank supreme_. _ _ _ _

____Dean liked to pretend that the lone bee wax candle – Cas' gift, of course – lit right after didn't _awaken_ anything in him. But maybe, just _maybe_ , he would avoid looking at wax for a while – just in case. Dealing with a newfound obsession with Cas' strong back muscles of all things was already _a lot_ , he didn't need to uncover new, unexplainable kinks as well. _ _ _ _

____As early morning light started slowly seeping in through the blinds, they hesitantly pulled apart from a long make-out session one last time, pressing their sweaty foreheads together. The warm embrace of Cas' strong arms felt like protective wings surrounding Dean with happiness and peaceful energy. He smiled as the gentle caressing of Cas' hands lulled him. He fell asleep easily, only a whiff of cold air and an empty feeling disturbing his peace._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____*****  
Dean woke up with the familiar sense of grumpiness he faced every time he had to knowledge the beginning of a new day. He stretched out lazily, feeling stiff and sore for some reason. Groaning at the stupid, intruding sunlight, he moved a pillow to cover his face, sighing dramatically. It was too early for his brain to function, fuck off._ _ _ _

____Wait._ _ _ _

____Dean startled himself awake, suddenly remembering the events that took place the night before._ _ _ _

____Fuck._ _ _ _

____He looked over to the other side of bed, feeling his stomach drop when he noticed it looked unoccupied and felt cold to the touch. No. No, fuck _no_. He couldn't have imagined it all, could he? _ _ _ _

____Dean's head started spinning as panic flooded his bloodstream. Fuck, what if it was all in his head? He couldn't quite call it a dream – but what else? Oh. Maybe the poison from Belphegor's arrow was at fault. Maybe it made Dean _delirious_ , made him _imagine_ all sorts of _crazy_ things that could _never_ happen to someone like him. It made sense, didn't it? His own fucked up brain playing cruel tricks on him. Good things just _didn't happen_ , not to him._ _ _ _

____Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to settle his racing heart and embrace the shitty reality that wasn't really so new anyway. But when Dean opened his eyes again and looked around, he felt his breath catch again. There, in the corner of his bedroom, under the _bee slippers_ , was a bright piece of glass that could only be a piece of his _broken lamp_. _ _ _ _

____Dean frowned, turning his head to where the lamp used to be and blinking stupidly when he saw it _intact_. What the hell did it mean? _ _ _ _

____He started thinking. How could a piece of lamp be missing if it wasn't broken? But it had been, hadn’t it? It _had_ shattered the night before so there had to be an explanation as to why was it was back in place. _ _ _ _

____A sudden realization almost made dean sick to his stomach. Cas must had fixed it. He must had broken it first though, which meant... Well, of course. It made sense. It was the same explanation as _every_ other time Dean woke up feeling lonely and stupid. _ _ _ _

____Cas regretted it._ _ _ _

____He probably pitied Dean enough to feed him stupid excuses – and he had fallen for them like a lost little fool, hoping for something he knew he was never meant to have. Cas had probably fixed the damn lamp right before he _left_ , hoping Dean would consider everything that happened an elaborate illusion. Hell, he probably was ashamed on his behalf as well, with every embarrassing thing Dean's admitted - no, he couldn't even think about it._ _ _ _

____The painful sting of _betrayal_ filled Dean with gall and made his blood boil. So what, Cas thought he'd just use Dean like that and then pretend it didn't happen? Fucking _wonderful_. Story of his fucking life. _ _ _ _

____Dean smashed the stupid, ugly lamp against the wall in one swift move, the sharp pieces of glass ricocheting against the surface and scraping his skin. He didn't care. He felt bitterness rising up his throat and threatening to turn into a choked up _sob_ and he _chose_ to be _angry_ instead. He wasn't going to fucking cry over being _dumped_ by a shitty one night stand. Not even if it was _the only person_ Dean had never once doubted before. _ _ _ _

____Cas didn't deserve this unconditional trust. Fuck. Dean couldn't even hate the angel, despite everything. His stupid, stomped over, damaged heart kept screaming at him in denial, trying to beat out of his chest and confront Castiel one last time so he could kill Dean _for good_ , take pity on him and finish the job so at least he wouldn't have to ever _feel_ again. _ _ _ _

____After successfully managing to suppress the _disgusting_ urge to wallow in self-pity, Dean got up and decided it was time to fix his stupid, aching heart with a good old portion of caffeine-induced tachycardia. Whatever. Life went on and he needed to be awake for it._ _ _ _

____After making himself a cup, Dean waited for about twenty seconds for it to cool down before deciding he just didn’t care anymore and bringing the cup to his lips. Of course, that was right when he got startled by a familiar _"Hello, Dean."__ _ _ _

____He jumped, expecting to feel the burn of hot liquid spilling on him, but nothing happened. In fact, he didn't even have a cup in his hands anymore._ _ _ _

____"What the fuck?!" Cas knew better than to interrupt Dean's morning _coffee time_. So now he was basically just adding fuel to the fire. "Did you just _mojo away_ my fucking coffee cup?" The nerve of that tiny tree topper! That goddamn angel magic needed to be _banned_._ _ _ _

____"It was going to burn you," drawled Cas, no hint of regret in his voice. "I panicked." In fact, he didn't even look one bit guilty about showing up unannounced after ghosting him like a dick – or about _disintegratig_ Dean's cool cowboy cup and its contents. _ _ _ _

____"I brought you coffee," Cas offered, extending hand towards Dean with a little smile._ _ _ _

____"Why _thank you_ , Casper. Aren't you a real _gentleman_ ," Dean rolled his eyes, sarcastically. He made sure to lay it on thick so there was _no way_ for Cas to miss the bitterness._ _ _ _

____"I don't understand that reference," the angel frowned. "It's a caramel latte from the bakery we went to, back in May. I know you usually prefer a strong black with no sugar, but I've noticed you enjoying the sweet drinks I've ordered too, so I thought you might like this."_ _ _ _

____"Well, you thought _wrong_ ," Dean huffed. Bringing up his embarrassingly _girly_ taste buds wasn't going to earn Cas forgiveness. The angel could go give that sugary shit to the bees he surely valued more than Dean, or whatever. Guess he just wasn’t small and yellow enough for Cas to stick around._ _ _ _

____"You're angry," Cas frowned, hesitantly retracting the hand holding the coffee cup. Dean just rolled his eyes once again, turning away from the angel to stare at the _fascinating_ plain green paint of his kitchen’s wall. _ _ _ _

____"I also brought pie," Cas supplied, carefully. Dean perked up. Okay, _no_ , he was a strong enough man to resist the temptation of his favourite food. He was a strong man with a hunger to satisfy. He could _resist_._ _ _ _

____Shit._ _ _ _

____"Um. What flavour?" fuck, he wasn't supposed to ask. This was ridiculous, he couldn't forgive _betrayal_ over a goddamn _pie_. _ _ _ _

____He turned back to face Cas._ _ _ _

____The angel grinned, undoubtedly excited to answer the question. "A dozen different flavors actually," the answer surprised Dean, which only seemed to make Cas happier. "I got an assortment of pie slices so you can try them all!" The poorly concealed delight on Dean's astonished face probably looked comical._ _ _ _

____"What, like a doughnut box...but with _pie_?" well, fine, maybe _the pie_ could stay. It wasn't at fault for having a _cowardly douchebag_ buy it, was it. And it would make a _perfect_ breakfast._ _ _ _

____"I don't see why it has to be a _doughnut_ box, but um, yes? I suppose," Cas didn't look very convinced but clearly wasn't about to argue with Dean, trying to avoid increasing his anger._ _ _ _

____"Very well." Yeah, the pie could stay but _somebody else_ couldn't. _ _ _ _

____"You can leave the pie on the counter. Then go." Dean had to look away again, not trusting himself to look at the angel, knowing it might make him hesitate. Cas didn't deserve his forgiveness and seeing that stupidly lovely face was bound to make Dean's clarity waver._ _ _ _

____"But I have just returned," looking away wasn't enough. The months spent sharing meaningful glances and observing the angel enabled Dean to tell Cas’ mood by the tone of his voice, and current one was suggesting hurt and _confusion_. But he deserved to be _hurt_ so what the hell did he expect, a warm embrace?_ _ _ _

____"Well, you've left," shrugged Dean. He didn't care, and if his shaky voice suggested otherwise, it was to blame on morning grogginess and nothing else._ _ _ _

____"To get the pie?" argued Cas, voice careful like if he was approaching a wild animal that was ready to bolt. Maybe Dean was, but he didn't exactly have the abilities to fuck off whenever he wanted to, and they were still in his apartment so he wasn't the one leaving anytime soon._ _ _ _

____"You don't sound so sure there, buddy."_ _ _ _

____"I’m unsure about what I did to earn your hostility, not about the reasons of my earlier absence."_ _ _ _

____Dean turned his head towards Cas, carefully eyeing him. He didn't want to listen to the angel's bullshit excuses, but his pathetic heart refused to learn and kept telling him something didn't add up. There was little sense in believing Cas was deliberately trying to ridicule Dean more._ _ _ _

____There was no animosity in the angel’s voice, and between bringing Dean breakfast and looking ridiculously innocent and _hurt_ , there was enough ground to make a couple doubts start to grow. But Dean was hurt too, and he didn't want that instinctual trust to screw him over again. Calling it _trust_ was also much easier than calling it what it _really_ was._ _ _ _

____"I woke up alone," Dean gritted, throwing an angry stare at Cas._ _ _ _

____"Oh, Dean," Cas started, that stupid gentle voice Dean couldn't stand present once again. "I was only gone for ten minutes. I didn't plan to take so long, but the lovely barista kept telling me all sorts of different coffee bean facts and I got caught up."_ _ _ _

____Dean huffed, thinking Cas should had probably stayed to flirt with that fucking _barista_ then. Surely they would bond over the _bean_ facts just right. _ _ _ _

____"Wow, Cas, lying to my face, that's new. When again, what do I even know. How very _human_ of you." Dean shook his head, bitterly. "I _felt it_ , okay. Yesterday, _when you left_. At first, I didn't even realize, but I understand now."_ _ _ _

____Cas tried to protest but Dean interrupted him, once again overtaken by hurt and letting his venom spill. "You shouldn't have returned. A walk of shame is a one-way road, so you aren't welcome back."_ _ _ _

____Something must had clicked and the realization dawned on Cas' face, his frown turning into complete _devastation_. "It wasn't like that, Dean." _ _ _ _

____" _Sure_ it wasn't. Just a moment ago you've been telling me you haven't left at all. So what's it gonna be, huh? Pick your lie of the day, Castiel." The use of his full name made Cas' face drop some more._ _ _ _

____"I _did _leave, but it was only to...fix certain things."___ _ _ _

______"Wow, such an elaborate and _believable_ explanation, an A+ performance right there. Didn’t know you went to drama school." Cas didn't dare to protest, taking Dean's stringing remarks resiliently, waiting for his turn to speak._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Last night... I wasn't fully in control of my desire. It kept... I kept blowing things up, accidentally." Dean knew that already._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Yeah, thanks for the lamp, by the way," Dean didn't sound grateful at all._ _ _ _ _ _

______"What I'm trying to say is, your lamp wasn't the only thing I've damaged." Cas actually looked mildly embarrassed this time. Good to know Dean wasn't the only one incapable of controlling his orgasms._ _ _ _ _ _

______"What else then?" Dean was losing his patience._ _ _ _ _ _

______"The streetlights."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Well, that's a little dramatic but I don't see your point."_ _ _ _ _ _

______" _All the lights_ on your street, Dean." Just for a second, Dean allowed himself to feel flattered. Damn. "Your neighbors on both sides had broken glass all over their porches and I wasn't sure if anyone has _heard_ anything. I _had to_ leave to fix it. To make sure nobody noticed anything _suspicious_. If anyone came to investigate, it could compromise your identity." _ _ _ _ _ _

______Cas' eyes were full of sincerity and Dean felt the ghost of hope circling around him. Fuck, if this was _true_ then _maybe_ Cas wasn't exactly intending to abandon him._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I came back as soon as I was sure everything was fine. I don't need sleep but holding you in my arms has brought me so much _happiness_." _ _ _ _ _ _

______There went Dean's guard. Of course, Cas had to go and say something painfully sweet again and make it even harder for Dean to doubt him._ _ _ _ _ _

______"If you really want me to leave, I will. But if you _don't _, I would love to stay. As long as you have me." _Forever _was left unsaid._____ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I’ll think about it," Dean concluded. Cas shifted nervously, unsure what to do next now that he’d made himself clear and was at Dean’s mercy. He nodded briefly and then turned around to leave._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Alright, I’ve thought about it!" exclaimed Dean. So much for keeping it cool. _Fuck_ being cool, he needed Cas to stay this time. "Don’t go."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Cas smiled bashfully, face lighting up. If Dean wasn’t busy trying to understand his conflicted emotions, he would probably remember that Cas didn’t really need to _walk_ away if he wanted to be gone. He’d been dragging out the moment, hoping to stay._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I won’t." Cas’ face beamed softly, unmasked fondness in his happy eyes doing cruel things to Dean’s insides. "Now may I heat up this coffee for you?" The corner of Dean’s lip twitched up. There he was, the caring angel residing permanently in Dean’s tortured heart, decorating it with tiny bandages, one supernatural act of kindness at a time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"You may." And maybe Dean would need more convincing to fully believe this wasn’t all a part of an elaborate scheme to screw with his sanity some more. But it was nothing a couple pies and nights spent together couldn’t fix. And yeah, maybe he’d like to have that disgustingly flavorful abomination of a coffee Cas got him but right now he had something else on his mind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Just fucking kiss me already," he blurted, using momentum before doubts started flooding back in. Cas put the food aside carefully and approached Dean. There was nothing menacing about him at the moment, and yet Dean found himself fidgeting nervously._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He closed his eyes in trepidation, all traces of brief bravery missing. He felt Cas’ warmth as he got closer, followed by a gentle touch of a hand encircling his. Dean’s breath caught in his throat. Cas rubbed his thumb over Dean’s hand and slowly pulled it closer, bringing it to his lips._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Cas," Dean’s voice sounded broken. He wasn’t ready for something like this, something so _intimate_ and _pure_. He wasn’t sure how to keep existing, not with the knowledge that there was an _angel_ out there willing to kiss his scarred, calloused hands. And not just any angel, _his angel_. His life didn’t feel real anymore and he wasn’t ready for another rude awakening. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Do you- Is this what you really want? Here, with me?" He had to ask. He had to know this meant what he hoped it did but words didn’t come easy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"There’s nothing I want more." The sincerity in Cas’ voice was overwhelming. Dean nodded and opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Instead, he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Cas’ lips, moving slowly and carefully._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The contrast to their first kiss was colossal. This one, somehow, felt more powerful. Without the lust and adrenalin clouding their senses it was just _them_ , cherishing every second of the tender moment. Dean wasn’t sure he was ready to linger on that, so the kiss didn’t last long. He pulled away, reluctantly, thinking about how it all started yesterday. A sudden memory flash made him wonder. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Wait, I have a question." Dealing with all that emotional rollercoaster really made him forget the weirdest thing of all. "What the fuck was in that arrow, cupid Viagra? Aged ambrosia on rocks? I felt…I’m not entirely sure any human language has words that could possibly describe _that _." Getting impaled was the new cocaine, apparently.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Oh," Cas looked like he would be blushing if his body was capable of it. "There wasn’t anything. I made that up." And what?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Dean knew he was an idiot _sometimes_ but the times just seemed to be getting way too fucking frequent recently. "I don’t understand," he admitted, frowning. His arms kept moving up, down and forward on their own accord as he gaped at Cas, mouth twitching. Perhaps he _was_ insane, after all. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"I'm surprised you didn't ask earlier, considering that it struck your _shoulder_ – which I healed before we left the scene." Okay, shit, it really did. The stupid arrow had grazed Dean’s left arm and Cas made sure to heal it completely before they parted ways last night. The scrape under his navel was a superficial wound from another fight that happened a few days ago, how could he not realize?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"But-" Dean still had so many questions he didn’t even know where to start. "Then why did you come? If there was no threat?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"I couldn't resist," responded Cas. Dean’s stomach fluttered. "Dean, I- Sometimes your thinking is very…loud." Cas paused, picking words. "Sometimes when you’re thinking about me, I can...I can hear your prayers."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Dean blanched. That couldn’t possibly be good. " _Prayers?_ " He wasn’t even _religious_ , but weren’t prayers supposed to be directed at god? Or _Angels_. Of the Lord. Fuck._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"I wasn’t _on purpose_ ," assured Cas. "I wasn’t _listening_. But angels, we can _sense_ certain emotions. We can pick up on… pleading." _Dear Lord, Dean would like to pass away, immediately. Please._ "Longing." Smiting had never seemed so tempting. "Some special... _requests_." If any earth-destroying meteor had planned to fall down anytime soon, now was the perfect time to do so._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Don't tell me you've been picking up on my _sexual fantasies_." Dean felt mortified but had to ask, just to be completely sure._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Not _exclusively_ ," assured Cas. Oh yeah, because _intruding on Dean’s darker thoughts_ was _so_ much better. "It’s just really hard to tune out when you’re so direct." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________A mental image of moaning Cas’ name definitely was _not_ something he needed right now. The angel could probably hear it too. _Awesome_._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"And you came because you couldn't resist...answering my prayers?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Indulging your fantasies."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Fuck."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________What did one say to a _holy_ creature standing in their kitchen when said creature admitted to having come with a mission of fulfilling their accidental sexual favor requests? Dean would _pray_ for answers but that seemed just a little bit counterproductive._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"I've wanted to, for a long time." Cas was on the course of setting a new ‘rendering Dean speechless’ record._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Okay. That's- okay, cool. Good to know." Dean’s _poetic eloquence_ knew no limits. "But why did you lie?" He was getting too tired of solving riddles. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"I had no plan." Cas shifted, nervously. Dean was surprised to realize the angel seemed _ashamed_ of his reckless behavior, despite concealing it very well yesterday. "I wasn’t sure you’d want to do everything you’ve envisioned with the _real_ me, wasn’t sure I’d live up to your expectations." Cas’ voice was quiet and sorrowful, like he really thought he wasn’t good enough _for Dean_ of all people. Dean knew that feeling all to well. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"So I made up an excuse to touch you." Dean couldn’t help but think Cas couldn’t have possibly heard _that much_ of his private thoughts if there were still _any_ doubts left. His face burned at the new image of being touched intruding upon his consciousness._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"So what did you do? When you pretended to look through my molecules or whatever." Dean _definitely_ wasn’t asking because he wanted a round two. Well, maybe only a little bit. It was, after all, as embarrassing as it was ecstatic. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"It was just me," Cas replied, thoughtfully. The angel was yet to learn to _speak stupid_ and understand Dean’s need for elaboration._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"You mean what, your _true_ form? Invading my body?" it was as hot as it was terrifying. Dean vaguely remembered feeling like a burning light spilling through the universe at the speed of an atomic explosion. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"No, I mean my... emotions," Cas sounded bashful but the reverence in his eyes told a different story. Dean’s skin crawled when Cas looked at him with such undeniable _admiration_ he couldn’t begin to understand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Emotions?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"I felt bad about being dishonest and didn’t want to manipulate your body under false pretenses. So I decided to just…establish a connection, through my grace. To show you a glimpse of my true _feelings_." The answer wasn’t helping Dean understand at all. There was nothing _just’ _about what had happened. "I hoped you'd understand then." Dean would laugh if he wasn’t so frustrated.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"What feelings?"  
"How I feel about you."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"Oh."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Maybe Dean _did_ understand. Though he couldn’t begin to describe the _sensations_ he’d felt, he remembered _the emotions_ , and _that_ even he could describe easily. If he dared to accept the truth. That was _something he felt_ every day, when looking at _Cas_ – except on human levels of intensity._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"I-" Dean’s heart felt stuck in his throat, thumping. Cas smiled, gently stoking his burning cheek._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"You don't have to say it, I heard your prayers."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"Can I show you, instead?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________"I would love that."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________It would take some time to admit oud loud but for once, Dean would allow himself to hope and let good things happen. He would feel Cas’ arms around him all night and none of them would let go once, not even when the police radio went off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Dean would fall asleep, unaware that a month from now, Cas would admit that he’d been admiring him even before their fateful encounter in the alley. That it was Dean’s _incredible, selfless bravery_ that had inspired him to make a mask and start confronting the evil in the night. That being closer to Dean and making him happy had always been Cas’ greatest joy. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He would call Dean the most loving man but Dean would know he’s only second-best, the first being his wondrous partner._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He wouldn’t know that in five years he would find himself in their new apartment, a fifteen-minute drive away from Sam’s, laughing at the yellow paint in Cas’ hair making him resemble a bee._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________And he wouldn’t know that Cas’ nightly embrace would not waver ever again. But that, somehow, he would believe nonetheless._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> If you've ended up here, thank you for taking the time to appreciate the bi with the pie and his dramatic suffering. And don't forget to smile today because Castiel loves you! I choose to believe he likes those of us that spend their time enjoying the written form of gay porn.


End file.
